


Skywalker One-Shots with a Side of Coffee

by Cmiller89



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Drabbles, I like coffee, I see more tags in your future, Skywalker Family Drama, dad!Vader, haven't written fanfiction in over a decade so go easy on me, it is my muse my flame, just kidding I love coffee, stuff I may want to write in the future
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-01-30 17:43:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12658353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cmiller89/pseuds/Cmiller89
Summary: Drabbles, one-shots, alternate universes and other things I would love to write a whole story on, but haven't. All about the Skywalker drama within the universe we love or ones that never had a chance to be. Strong focus on the father-son relationship between Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker.Warning: I haven't written fanfiction in over a decade and my writing ability has suffered because of it.





	1. He Hadn't

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing. Seriously. These are all just some ideas and plot bunnies I wanted to get down on "paper" and I figured, what the hell, I'll share it with everyone. Anything that you like and may want to see an actual story about: let me know!

It had been so long since he had thought about someone other than himself or his master. So long in fact that he wasn't even sure he was capable of it anymore, that the dark side had gripped his heart so thoroughly that there was no possible way he could. That is, until he found out about _him_.

  
The moment he heard the last name of a foolish man whose heart had crumbled almost two decades ago, he knew the truth. The Force had danced around him in glee of the revelation and he had almost crumbled under its weight. He had spent so very long encased in his guilt that a part of him wanted to deny it. A part of him had no desire to wonder what could have been, what he had missed.

  
He was a Sith Lord. The monster that his master would unleash to dispatch of any and all that opposed the Empire. He had shed his past self, the man too weak to save the ones he loved. Too weak to stop himself from destroying them.

  
So, no, he wouldn't admit it. He definitely hadn't...  
He hadn't thought of a young man excited for their blessing. He hadn't thought of a teacher placing a hand on his shoulder and announcing his pride. He hadn't thought of a student gleefully commenting about the bundle in her arms. He hadn't thought of a child grasping at his hand, smiling in childhood innocence. He hadn't thought of years missed in raising a rambunctious child into a teenager. He hadn't thought of a huge house on a lake, a boy's laughter traveling on the wind.

  
And he most certainly hadn't thought of a woman with flowing chestnut locks cradling their creation and whispering, "Mommy's baby boy,".


	2. Do you AU? Why, yes, yes I do AU. How about you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This scene is from an AU I've written for before on my tumblr. At some point prior to ESB, Vader gets a hold of Luke and not long after, Palpatine is found dead under "mysterious circumstances". A new Emperor is crowned, but the Rebellion can't seem to find any images or video of him after the Empire declares a cease fire. All they know is that this new Emperor has garnered immense favor from the citizens of the galaxy and has offered aid for any issue between the Rebellion and factions of the old Empire. As the Rebellion tries to wrap their collective heads around such a major change, the new Emperor has had to adjust to a life of luxury and meetings. 
> 
> The idea here is that Vader is a bit...domestic when alone and in their living quarters, but goes back to being a terrifying albeit protective papa bear when they are in public. 
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

 

"Father! Seriously, get in here and look at this!"

"Luke..."

"Oh, come _on_! I keep asking you about this and your answers are always vague and-and you change the subject! Well, now you can't so get in here!"

"Luke, you are scheduled to meet with the Imperial Press concerning your relief efforts in the sector of-"

"There it is! Changing of subjects! I _know_ all about my schedule! Actually, that may have something to do with this, so we should talk about all of it...in here,"

Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, cringed as he found himself taking slow steps towards his son's bedroom. He would have released an exasperated sigh if he was still capable, the same he once made countless times before caving into the demands of a living angel. The fact he was reminded of such by his son both delighted him in the resemblance and yet irked him. Probably because, like over two decades ago, all his answers could be _wrong_.

Upon entering, Vader was taken aback by his son, dressed only in loose, gray sweatpants, looking at himself in a tall, wall mounted mirror outside his closet. Luke was grasping at his now significant paunch and turned his head towards his father, his brow quirked in question.

"...This is what you called me in for?"

" _This_ ," he dropped his belly and turned towards Vader, "this is a big deal! Emphasis on ' **big** '! I didn't have this a year ago, you know, before the schedule. I never get a chance to train anymore, at least, not like we had prior to overthrowing-"

"You were malnourished. The _Rebellion_ (Luke wasn't fond of the still present venom his father dripped into each syllable) couldn't even keep their own saving grace fed. It's astounding their troops even have the energy to walk let alone fire a weapon,"

Luke held up a hand, "Okay, okay, first: subject changed again. Two: I am **not** going to stand here and listen to you degrade my friends while I'm trying to get a sincere answer out of you!"

"What question am I to answer, young one?"

Luke tried but failed to reign in his eye rolling.

"Am I fat?"

And there it was. The question without a right answer. Vader stood in front of Luke, who was looking pointedly at him while grabbing a roll of skin, and slowly, but not discreetly enough, closed his bond to his son. His breathing was all that could be heard until...

"Seriously?" Luke whined.

Finally, his father turned away from him slightly and said, "No,".

"No? _Really_?" Luke held him in an inescapable, disbelieving look.

"Yes, really. Son...I...used to be vain. I used to care about petty things like _this_ ," he waved his hand in his son's direction. Luke's playful air had abated and he looked upon his father with worry, "But now...now I am a man mottled, my limbs gone, my hair burnt away. A mask adorns my face and this suit keeps me alive. Why would I care what you look like, child? To me...you are _perfect_..."

Vader was startled from his self-loathing by a hand on his arm and a chuckle dancing forth from his(her) son's lips.

"Oh, father, why do you have to ruin the fun? I'm just messing around!" As Vader turned back towards him, his son let his hand fall and walked over to his bed to grab his clothes. He quickly threw the expensive fabric on, pulling here and there until he looked at least slightly less disheveled. He faced his father and threw his arms out in emphasis.

"So? Do I look 'Emperor ready' enough?"

Luke was sure his father scoffed as he made his way towards his son and he smiled as he felt their bond open back up. The last year had been productive, life-altering, terrifying, and hard but it was worth it knowing his father had grown from it too. Luke had spent any free time-not in meetings, or parades, or _ruling_ -working on bringing his father out of his shell, so to speak. He had been steadily pulling more Anakin out from the darkness he was buried under.

"Changing subjects, son? Besides," Vader adjusted Luke's clothes into something maybe _she_ would be proud of,"...all I care about is your...happiness,". Luke gave him a loving smile...that all too quickly turned into a playful smirk.

"Well! If my happiness is measured by my waistline," he laughed as he moved past his father, grabbing the dumbfounded Sith Lord by the arm to pull him along, "Then I think everything's settled here! Time to get back on schedule! Imperial Press, right?"

Vader followed his son closely as they exited his chambers and eventually left their living quarters. Now they were in the public eye -danger!- and he needed to focus, needed to be prepared to uphold his sworn duty to protect and serve his Emperor. There would no longer be any distractions, nothing to keep him from this important ta-

"You know...I'm famished. Let's eat first!"

Except that.


	3. Meditating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is inspired by the recent Darth Vader comic book issue that illustrates how he sees himself in the Force.  
> This is set in canon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, send me prompts! Message me here or send an ask via my tumblr!

He's meditating again.

It's one of the few ways he can feel temporarily free from his skin of leather and machine, the tomb he deserves, the tomb he needs. Here in the folds of the Force, he can feel whole (or as close to it has possible) as he floats among the barren wasteland of his mind's eye. A dark reflection of the scorching land of Mustafar, lightening striking continuously, tearing a part the flesh of the earth beneath him. 

His body here is a tangled mass of hungry black worms, the dark side given life, the tendrils lashing out towards any remnants of(No!  _ He _ doesn't exist anymore. He died when  _ she _ did. All that is left is the machine)the light that seemed to almost enjoy fluttering around him in some masochistic existence. He would swat them away like incessant flies, but they would return to taunt him, their form changing constantly. Occasionally, they would take the form of butterflies or birds or something else inane. Something  _ useless _ . 

His eyes glow like the lava rivers of the place he was reborn. Red like blood bleeding forth, the wisps of darkness lapping it up in glee. 

This is where he belongs. Alone among the wreak that is his mind, body, and soul. 

He prepares himself for his departure, his crimson eyes shutting and his concentration ceasing, but he finds himself startled before he can close the door. Something...something else is  _ here _ .

Far away, at the edge of the tumultuous landscape, is a pulsing glimmer. The vexing sparks cease their swarming and shoot like falling stars towards the oscillating gleam. 

Concentrating on it was difficult, but after a few beats he was able to feel it. And...

_ It couldn't be _ ...

Another beat. 

_ It is _ !

He willed the landscape to move beneath him, the pulsating light resting not far from where he landed. It continued its steady beating as if...

_ Yes. He is asleep _ . 

The realization that the consistent glowing pulsations were a reflection of his son's beating heart filled Vader with a feeling he hadn't felt since he had placed his ear on  _ her _ distended belly. 

The glints that so often teased him now danced around his son's beautiful form in the Force. They would flutter back towards him in excitement but the strands of the Dark Side would unconsciously flick them away, causing them to scurry back towards his son. 

It was almost amusing how close he was to him here in the Force compared to his obsessive search outside of it. The boy was more difficult to wrangle than a startled nerf and his exhausting efforts to retrieve what is rightfully his had begun to whittle away what small amount of patience he still harbored. But here...

Here he is as close to his son as he had been on Cymoon IV, where he had yet to know whom the boy really was. The Force had tried to tell him, but he had been too caught up in vengeance to acknowledge it. He had wanted to kill Obi-Wan's pupil then had decided to twist the boy into a ruthless perversion of what Obi-Wan had wanted.

Now, though...all he wants...

He tentatively reaches towards him, his hand and arm white and foreign, a sick representation of his lost limb. He swears he can practically hear his child's breathing, could almost smell him, and now, yes, he would touch him. Then he'll know. Know exactly where his wayward offspring is hiding. Then...

Then he would tear the galaxy asunder to retrieve him. The Rebels will not continue to hold his son hostage. He sometimes imagines tearing them apart for poisoning the mind of his naïve boy, their blood hardly a satisfying payment for robbing him of what is his. He will keep him safe even if it means the destruction of star systems and annihilation of whole civilizations. Their raucous chorus of dying screams music to his damaged ears if it meant his son is with  **him** .

He hasn't been this obsessed with anyone nor anything since the decade he patiently lived through just to see  _ her _ again. It was this new single-mindedness that kept him moving. 

_ He had to have him _ .

**Mine** .

The vines of the Dark Side rushed down his arm, reaching with him towards the light.

_ He needed him _ .

**Mine** .

The dark tore ahead and began flowing over and around his son. 

_ He is his _ !

**MINE** !

Suddenly, a terrified yelp drew him from his rumination and, before he could react, the dazzling beauty of his son in the Force was gone. 

_ He had woke him _ .

And now all that remained was the broken landscape and the rumble of thunder. The Dark Side wailing in its failure. 

He  **will** have him. He will make the galaxy's sniveling worms see him as the Emperor he was always meant to be. They will kneel before his son's glorious form and beg for his forgiveness. His power greater than any Death Star. 

_ Than any god _ .

Then they would rule as father and son. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr thingy if you want more shenanigans and art  
> http://cmartnstuffs.tumblr.com


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